#tracking mud

Tracking Mud by Sickboyrari (2024, PluggnB, Emo Rap(?))

  February seemed no warmer than January or December. Winter wasn’t quite ready to release its icy grip on the town, though Rowan wished to see spring and summer again. It was tiresome to wake up every morning and leave the comfort of his apartment dorm to feel his perceptions overwhelmed with a piercing cold. Outings became restricted to the warmer hours of midday, and Rowan found himself visiting the secluded forests of Barton less and less. Life had become a blur of activity, and he realized he didn’t have the time to wander into the forests and practice his magic for underwhelming results that felt like parlor tricks to him at this point.

  Though Rowan hadn’t admitted it to himself, ever since the attack by the Unseelie Court he’d grown wary of his usual hikes into the woods. The scenery was flushed with a hue of teal, and the sharpened branches warned people away from the haunting domain. It was a strange transformation that prompted Rowan to look elsewhere to practice magic, and the Swamp hadn’t lost any of its livelihood since the attack and the turning of winter.

  He shelled out enough money to buy some adequate rubber boots—sold in town and guaranteed to keep your feet dry from mud, water, and unidentified slime. Walking (and sometimes, wading) out into the swamp was easier said than done, but compared to the forest, Rowan found the soft, slippery ground more bearable. He had, in fact, fallen over a couple times after losing traction with the slimy mud. Wet splotches of mud were evident up and down the side of his jeans, but still he persevered through the swamp, trying to find a suitable clearing to go about the same old, hum drum, making plants grow out of nothing and manipulating nature with his mind.